


What the Eyes See

by cienna



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:19:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2805842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cienna/pseuds/cienna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick struggles to deal with recurring nightmares about his favorite blutbad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Eyes See

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hobgoblin123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobgoblin123/gifts).



> This may have come out a bit angstier than I intended, but I hope you still enjoy it! Thanks so much to M for the beta!

When Nick snaps awake he realizes he is drenched in sweat, body shaking. He can still feel Monroe’s limp body in his arms – the life draining away. He shudders and feels Juliette move next to him, her arm reaching out.

“Everything okay?” Her voice is drowsy, still half asleep, but there’s no hiding the note of worry.

“Fine.” It comes out more sharply than he intends and her eyes snap open.

“Nick?”

“I mean, just a nightmare. No big deal.” He takes deep breaths and tries to control his breathing as Juliette half sits up and begins stroking his back. Even with her there he can’t wipe the image from his mind. Monroe’s face had been so pale, and the blood, the blood was everywhere - a dark shadow pooling on the ground beneath them. Even now he can almost smell the tangy scent of it in the air.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Her voice is calm, but he knows she is worried.

“No, really, I’m fine. I think I can go back to sleep now.”

She frowns. “You don’t usually have nightmares. At least,” she pauses to touch his face briefly, “not like this. You seem really shaken up.”

“I’m okay.” He pushes her hands away gently and lays back down. He knows she wants to help him, but he just can’t talk about it right now. He doesn’t even want to think about it. And yet he can’t stop picturing that moment in his mind. The moment when Monroe’s hand lets go of his and goes limp. He hears Juliette’s breathing even out, but it’s a long time before he is able to sleep.

***

Things always get a little crazy at the station as it gets closer to Christmas, and the extreme cold at the moment doesn’t seem to be doing much to keep the residents of Portland out of trouble. It’s a busy day, and for the most part Nick manages to ignore the worried looks Hank and Wu keep shooting him as they work a case. It’s not until he knocks his coffee over on a huge stack of file folders for their current case that Hank finally takes him aside.

“Tell me what’s going on.” He looks insistently at Nick.

Nick can’t seem to meet his eyes. “Nothing. I just didn’t sleep well last night.” The understatement of the century.

“Don’t give me that. You look like you’re about to fall over from exhaustion. And I know that you’ve gone without sleep for way longer before.” Hank hesitates, looking Nick up and down. “Is this some sort of Grimm thing?”

“What? No. No. I mean… I don’t think so.”

“You don’t seem so sure.”

“Look, it’s nothing.” Nick sighs and gives in. Hank isn’t deterred easily when he thinks he’s on to something. “I just had a bad dream, okay.”

Hank looks at him incredulously. “That must have been some bad dream. You look like death warmed over. Do you think there was anything more to it?”

“I don’t think so. I just can’t stop thinking about it. About,” Nick hesitates, “him.”

“Him? Him, who?”

“Monroe.”

“Monroe?” Hank worried look turns thoughtful. “What happened with Monroe? In the dream?”

“He, he died. Horribly.” Nick is ashamed to hear his voice shaking. He can still see Monroe’s face, pale with the tinge of death, the smell of blood in the air. He closes his eyes for a moment and feels Hank’s hand on his shoulder squeezing gently. “I couldn’t do anything to help him.”

“Have you talked to him about it?” Hanks asks.

“Not yet. I mean, I would feel ridiculous. It was just a dream, right?” It had to have been a dream. Nick touches the cell phone in his pocket. All day he’s been fighting the ridiculous urge to call Monroe. If he could just hear his voice, then maybe this horrible panicky feeling in his chest would go away.

“Yeah, I’m sure it was.” Hank says firmly.  “It’s just… you seem really messed up over it. And as far as I know you aren’t usually that way over dreams.” He smiles. “Unless you’ve been hiding it really well…”

Nick shakes his head. “No, this dream was different. It was so vivid. I experienced every detail. When I woke up I could still feel where I had touched him, where the blood…” his voice trails off. He isn’t sure why this is shaking him up so much. He deals with things like what happened in the dream every day at his job. Although it isn’t usually a friend.

“Look, I think you need to take off. I’ll cover for you with the Captain. Go see Monroe and Rosalee and tell them what happened. You certainly aren’t getting anything done here today.”

Nick shudders. “You don’t think the dream might be prophetic?” That had been his biggest fear all day, the source of the waves of panic rushing through him.

Hank sighs. “I don’t think so, but something definitely seems off. I think you need to talk to them about it. And soon before you destroy any more critical documents.” He gives Nick a fond smile.

“Yeah, okay.” Hank didn’t have to tell him twice. He had been fighting the urge all day to pick up the phone and hear Monroe’s voice for himself. So that he would know for certain that he was safe. That he was alive. But he felt like if he did, he would be giving into the dream somehow.

“Get going then. And make sure you get some sleep after you talk to him.”

Nick nods. “Hank, thanks. For listening… and for putting up with me today. I haven’t been the best partner.”

Hank smiles. “Good thing you make up for it on a regular basis.”

***

The sight of Monroe in one of his hideous sweaters,  _alive and well_  standing in front of him as he answers the door, makes the tangled knot of anxiety in Nick’s stomach temporarily melt away. He hadn’t realized how worried he actually was until that moment, seeing him standing there.

“Nick? Is everything okay? You look really pale.” Monroe’s voice is edged with worry and Nick realizes that he’s just been standing in the doorway and staring at Monroe for longer than he realized.

“I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.” Nick realizes belatedly that it’s actually only around noon.

“Come inside, and sit down. You’re not looking so great.” Monroe takes Nick’s elbow gently and leads him over to the couch. “So what’s going on? You need my help with a case?”

“Not exactly.” Nick looks awkwardly at his hands and tries to think of whether he wants to actually tell Monroe what’s going on. For some reason he feels ridiculous trying to explain the dream. “This was a bad idea. I should…” he stands up and tries to go for the door but Monroe blocks his path.

“Um, no way, Nick. You can’t just come here in the middle of the day looking like death warmed over and then just immediately leave. You have to tell me what’s going on.”

Nick sighs and goes to sit back down on couch, doing his best to ignore the extreme amount of Christmas decorations. Monroe had scaled back a lot since Rosalee had moved in and they had been trying to compromise, but it’s still a little distracting. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“I think I know you a little better than that,” Monroe says firmly. “And surely I won’t think you’re any crazier than Juliette did when you tried to tell her the truth about being a Grimm.”

“That doesn’t actually make me feel any better, Monroe,” Nick says, but he can’t help but laugh.

“You aren’t actually sick, are you? I can get Rosalee if we need her. She’s in the spice shop.”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that. At least I don’t think so. This just sounds ridiculous to say out loud.” He steels himself. He has to get this out somehow and putting it off certainly isn’t going to make it any easier. “I had a dream last night. About you.”

Monroe looks surprised. “And I take it we weren’t exactly drinking beer and discussing the latest case?”

“Not exactly. It was – pretty horrible.”

“I’m not sure if I want you to elaborate on that or not.”

Nick takes a deep breath and hopes he can get it all out. “You… died. You died in my arms.”

“It was – there was blood everywhere.” He realizes he’s shaking again and closes his eyes. Suddenly he feels a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay. I’m fine, Nick. Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Nick concentrates on the sound of Monroe’s familiar voice, at the warmth of Monroe’s palm splayed across his back, and forces himself to open his eyes.

“So this dream. It has you pretty shaken up.”

Nick, sighs, trying to think of a way to explain. “It just seemed so real. Everything about it. I could feel the warmth of the blood, I could smell it.”

“Okay, I think I get the idea. That’s enough details.” Monroe is starting to look vaguely ill. “Do you think there’s more to it?”

“God, I hope not.” Nick can’t help but lean towards Monroe, so their shoulders are touching just a bit. Just the idea that Monroe’s here with him, that he’s safe, helps him wipe the images from the dream out of his mind.

“I’m not gonna lie, you’re kind of freaking me out here, Nick.” Monroe’s voice is calm, but Nick can tell he’s unsettled.

“I’m sorry.” Nick forces himself away from that intoxicating warmth and stands up. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

Monroe stands up beside him. “I didn’t mean that! Of course you were right to come here. It’s just that I think we may need Rosalee’s advice on this. But first,” Monroe walks into the kitchen and pulls out two beers, tossing one to Nick. “I have some tofurkey too, if you’re hungry.”

Nick cringes. “I’ll pass, thanks.” He takes a sip of the beer with shaky hands and tries to focus on the crisp taste instead of staring at Monroe. Somehow he feels better when Monroe is within his line of sight. Calmer, less on edge.

A few minutes later when Monroe leaves to get Rosalee, it takes all of Nick’s restraint not to follow him.  He sighs and rests his head in his hands. This is not good.

***

Monroe comes back with Rosalee only a few minutes later, but it seems like hours to Nick. Letting Monroe out of his sight is no big deal, but for some reason he can’t seem to get that through to his brain, which just screams ‘danger, danger.’

Rosalee is her usual self, relaxed and confident. “Hey, Nick.  I heard you’re having some weird dreams.  Could you tell me a little more about them?” Despite her calm voices there’s a certain tenseness to her face. Carefully, Nick recounts everything he told Hank and Monroe.  It doesn’t get any easier the third time around. Rosalee stops him when his hands start shaking.

“That’s enough, Nick. I think I know what’s going on.”

“Please say it’s not anything serious.” Nick is pretty sure that’s impossible at this point, but he has to hope.

She hesitates, “It is serious, Nick, but not in the way you think. I don’t think your dreams are prophetic and I don’t think Monroe is in any danger. But I do think you might be.”

“Nick’s in danger? What do you mean?” Monroe asks sharply.

“It sounds like something is invading his dreams. There’s a wesen called an Abath that is known for causing fear. I had issues with one when I was younger. Their absolute favorite thing is scaring people, preferably to death.  Normally they imitate ghosts and poltergeists and can make people think their house is haunted, but there are varieties that can invade dreams as well.”

Nick frowns. “But if that wesen was hanging out in my bedroom at night, don’t you think Juliette or I would have seen it?  Or at least caught a glimpse?”

Rosalee sits down next to him on the couch. “Abath can actually make themselves invisible to the human eye, and they’re nocturnal.”

“But why would one of those be going after me?”

“As far as why it’s going after you in particular – there’s just no way of knowing. It could be anything, because you’re a Grimm, because you got involved with it somehow through your police work, or maybe just because it felt like it. They’re not particularly discerning, believe me. One went after me when I was a child just because it wanted the red lollipop I was eating.”

“And why would it be making me have those dreams about Monroe?”

“Generally the Abath will prey on your deepest, most hidden fears.  So it might not know that Monroe is important to you, it just pulls the thing from your subconscious that will make you the most afraid.”

Monroe is now looking at him thoughtfully and Nick forces himself to avoid eye contact.

“But it doesn’t sound like these dreams are just normal dreams,” Monroe points out.  “Nick said that the dream seemed completely real to him.”

“One of the Abath’s powers is that it can make dreams so vivid that the person dreaming thinks they are real, to the point that they still affect you even when awake.  It’s not like a regular nightmare. And I know it sounds ridiculous, but if your mind believes something is real, it does have the power to make it that way.”

Monroe looks at her sharply. “Meaning?”

“Meaning that if Nick gets hurt or dies in the dream it’s possible it could become reality.”

Nick stands up, frustrated. He hates that this thing is manipulating him and he hates that he feels so completely powerless to do anything about it. “So what can we do? How do we stop it?”

“Well first of all, I think it’s best that you stay at our house tonight. That way you won’t put Juliette in danger too. And then you pretty much just have to go to sleep. That should attract it.”

“What?” Monroe sounds outraged. “He has to go to sleep again? Won’t that put him in even more danger?”

“That’s the only way we can draw the Abath here. Normally it can only be found deep in the woods.  So the fact that it’s here in Portland means that it’s very interested in Nick.”

“But I thought you said you encountered an Abath as a child?” Monroe asks.

“I did. But I think it became interested in me when I was playing in the woods one day and followed me back to our house. Abath are usually more active around the winter solstice. They spend a lot of the year just keeping to themselves.”

“Okay. So I go to sleep and then what?” Nick asks. He isn’t very excited about experiencing a repeat of the previous night, but if it gets rid of the gnawing fear he currently experiences whenever he looks at Monroe it will be well worth it.

“We trap it.  Monroe will sit with you in the room and then wake you up when I give the signal. The Abath’s form is actually a female unicorn and the only way it can lose its powers is to chop off the horn.”

“Uh… I’m not so sure about this.” Monroe sounds as worried as Nick feels. “I thought this thing was invisible.”

“It’ll be fine,” Rosalee assures him. “It has a connection with Nick so he should be able to sense where it is.  Plus if there’s any problem, I’ll be there as back-up. I’ll wait in another room though.  Too many people in the room might frighten it and keep it from reappearing.”

Monroe and Rosalee both turn to look at Nick. “Well, it’s not like we have any other choice,” he says. “Let’s do this.”

***

Six hours later when Nick is actually lying on the bed in Monroe’s guest bedroom he isn’t as convinced about what a good idea this is. It doesn’t help that Monroe is sitting on the chair next to the bed staring at him awkwardly as he tries to sleep.

Nick rolls over again and again trying to find a comfortable position. Finally he gives in and sits up in the bed.  “Sorry.  This just isn’t happening.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t try to force things. Then it definitely won’t happen.” Monroe’s voice is comforting, but Nick still feels tense, like he can’t lie still.

“It would be one thing if I didn’t know I was going to have the dream again, but knowing I will,” he looks away, unable to meet Monroe’s eyes, “My mind wants to do it, but I can’t seem to make my body.”

“I could always read to you,” Monroe says thoughtfully. “It always puts Rosalee right to sleep.” He picks up a book called _Watchmakers and Clockmakers of the World_ and Nick groans.

“Maybe I can go to sleep after all.”

“I can read silently, but you’d be missing out. This is a really fascinating treatise on watchmaking throughout history.”

Nick grins. “I’ll take your word for it.” He lies back down and closes his eyes.

“Hey, Nick?”

“Yeah?” Nick opens his eyes again and looks over at Monroe in the chair. Monroe is staring at him intently.

“If I got attacked by that wesen, I would probably end up having a dream like that about you too.”

Nick manages to meet his eyes this time. “Not about Rosalee?” he asks.

Monroe swallows, but answers carefully. “Well maybe it would be about Rosalee. But it’s just as likely to be about you.  I mean, you’re my best friend.” He smiles at Nick hesitantly.

Nick smiles back. “Thanks, Monroe.” He closes his eyes again and concentrates on that image of Monroe in the chair by his bed reading his book about watchmakers. Finally after a bit more tossing and turning he’s able to drift off.

***

He doesn’t know how long after he goes to sleep it is, but suddenly he’s dreaming again. It’s like he’s gone back in time to the moment right before Monroe was killed in the previous dream. He sees Monroe standing next to him, alive and well and smiling, and then Nick sees it – a black horn has pierced cleanly through Monroe’s chest. He falls backwards into Nick’s arms and Nick collapses to the ground.

Nick’s thrown back into the moment from the previous dream, holding Monroe’s lifeless body, those feelings of fear and hopelessness all come rushing back in an instant. Monroe’s face is gradually becoming paler and the blood is everywhere, on the ground, on Nick’s hands, and seeping into his clothes. Nick breathes it in, the smell of Monroe’s life draining away, and tries to focus. There’s something he should be doing. Something important he needs to remember. Then he sees the black horn aimed directly at him and it all comes rushing back. The unicorn, the dream – this isn’t real.

Nick wakes with a start. Monroe is standing over him, shaking him, his face almost as pale as it was in the dream. “You wouldn’t wake up. God, Nick, I was so scared.”

“I’m okay,” Nick manages to get out. The lamp beside the bed comes down with a crash and Nick remembers the Abath. It’s still in the room, and clearly panicking. Nick jumps off the bed and moves quickly in the direction of the lamp and it isn’t long before he hits something large, solid, and icy cold. It takes some effort to bring it down, but when he does the Abath’s true form becomes visible, its black horn gleaming. “Quick, Monroe, the knife!” Monroe tosses him the knife and he just barely nicks the creature before Rosalee throws open the door and it becomes invisible again, squirming away from him. 

There’s another loud crash and suddenly glass is everywhere. The creature has broken through the second story window. Nick runs to the window but sees nothing, but moonlight and Monroe’s tacky Christmas decorations. The Abath has disappeared into the frosty December night.

“What happened? Did you get its horn, Nick?” Rosalee is asking urgently.

Nick looks down at his hands, now soaked with the black sticky blood from the creature. “I only nicked it.  I wasn’t able to completely remove the horn.”

Rosalee nods. “It’s okay. Generally Abath’s don’t return to places where they have been injured. You should be safe from the dreams now.”

Monroe is still looking shaken. “I couldn’t wake you up. No matter what I did.”

“Hey.” Nick touches his shoulder gently. “I’m fine. And hopefully that’s the end of that particular dream. I’d be fine with no dreams for a while.” He no longer feels fear when he looks at Monroe. It’s been replaced by a feeling that he can’t quite identify, except for a vague feeling of warmth. The feeling makes him smile. Monroe is smiling back and for the moment that’s all that matters.


End file.
